


August

by cowboykylo69



Category: Logan Lucky (2017)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fruit, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Pregnancy Kink, Vaginal Sex, soft dom Clyde
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:01:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26511829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboykylo69/pseuds/cowboykylo69
Summary: On a humid, late summer afternoon, Clyde makes you a couple of promises.
Relationships: Clyde Logan & Reader, Clyde Logan/Reader, Clyde Logan/You
Comments: 8
Kudos: 83





	August

The particles in the air reflect the morning sun, making them look like little fairies, dancing around in the early light, touching your soft skin and easing you back to sleep. You drift in and out for a while, for hours possibly. The soft, humid air of the morning too much to bear so soon and the warm body sleeping next to yours lulls you back into a dream state so easily, too easily. He wasn’t helping your case.

_Clyde_.

Both of you lay bare from the night before, the heat was too much to deal with, you both forewent any clothing, nothing but a thin sheet covering your bodies. 

Your arms reach out for him unconsciously, your body always needing him, wanting him. Needing to be closer, needing him to intertwine with you in every possible way. 

You hum into his chest, your face nuzzling into the strong skin, inhaling his scent. He always smelled so good, he smelled like home. Sweet almonds and a hint of his own musk. Your home.

His large arms enveloped you into his frame, shielding you from the breaking daylight through the thin curtains. He pulls you in tighter, grumbling something into your hair, kissing the top of your head several times.

“Morning.” You smile, voice happy, overflowing with contentment. Clyde grumbles again, flipping you both over so that he lays on you, caging you to the mattress with his body.

“Mmm’not yet darlin’.” His says against the skin of your chest, nuzzling his own face into your flesh now. His hand comes to lazily grope your breast, his fingers toying with the skin lightly. You giggle at his resistance to get up, threading your fingers through his long hair, twisting and scratching the way you know he likes. He moans, probably drifting back to sleep by the will of your delicate hands.

Clyde wasn’t much of a morning person but he has gotten used to getting up at a more reasonable hour because of you. The latest he would stay in bed now was 11am. Before he started seeing you, before you started sleeping over almost regularly, he wouldn’t get up till the late afternoon sometimes, even later on his bad days. The long, strange hours of the bar threw his sleep schedule all out of whack. His body craved sleep, no matter what hour of the day or night it was or how long he needed it for. He would just give in, and not think a second thought until his body naturally awoke again.

But Clyde likes how soft you look in the morning, how puffy your lips get when you wake up. How ditzy you are when your surroundings and senses haven’t fully kicked in yet, you say silly things sometimes, it makes him laugh and hold you closer, _tighter_. He likes the way you make coffee, he likes the way you burn his bacon in that special way only he likes. He likes the way you’ll sleep in nothing but your skin, and then throw on one of his shirts. He likes the way it's too big on you.

_Yeah_ , Clyde likes the mornings quite a bit now.

You don’t fight him too much when he clings to your body that tightly, his big hand and strong arms holding you so close to him that you can feel his heart beating through his chest, like it's telling you, asking you, ‘ _Please, just a little longer. Let me hold ya a little longer_ ’.

But it was the middle of August, and when it’s hot like today, the natural heat of his body makes you see stars, and not in that pleasant way, unfortunately.

“Clyde, it's too hot for this.” You whine through a soft laugh, trying to push this mountain of a man off of you. You manage to shimmy your way out from under him more than you're able to actually move him. He grumbles, a soft protest, but squishes his face back into the pillow where you just laid underneath him, inhaling the lingering scent of your skin on the fabric. _Sweetness_.

Grabbing one of his shirts from the closet and throwing it on, you move to pull the thin sheet higher up his body, stopping when it reaches just underneath his shoulders. You stop and admire the way his skin has tanned over the length of the summer, admiring how it contrasts beautifully with the crisp white sheets. You trace your fingers along his taut, browned skin, dancing over muscle, from mole to mole, freckle to freckle.

You like how his freckles have darkened too, new ones appearing almost everyday it seems, new ones to count, new ones to memorize and remember until they fade and come again next summer.

Clyde shivers underneath your touch, rolling over onto his back, eyes only cracking open slightly. You try to stifle your giggle at his dopey face.

Morning Clyde is one of your favourite versions of Clyde. Every version of Clyde is your favourite, actually but there’s something about him in the morning that makes your knees weak and your heart flutter in such an innocent way.

The way his eyes refuse to open all the way, how the skin underneath his left eye sometimes twitches, still laced with sleep. How his beautiful hair lays feathered across the pillow beneath him, as well as across his face in little wisps. How the morning light highlights all of his freckles and moles that adorn his features. The way he somehow moves onto your body so effortlessly, like he knows you like the back of his hand. He does. How he enters you so swiftly it wakes both of you up. The way he slowly fucks into you for hours until you’re both moaning, filling the soft, humid air of those summer mornings with nothing but obscenities. Those were the best mornings.

Even though he refused to open his eyes all the way, he still got a glimpse of you in his shirt, kneeling down to be more at his level on the bed. He smiled lazily at you.

“Come back t’bed.” He pouts through a soft smile, voice so raspy and low, his southern twang characteristically deeper as it usually is in the morning. He tries to grab you and pull you back into him, but is too tired to use any real force, giving up easily. He was always exhausted after Saturday nights at the bar, they drew in bigger crowds than usual and he always came home longing for nothing else but his soft mattress and your warm arms.

You lean in and press your lips to his nose, followed by a kiss underneath his left eye and then to his left eyebrow. _His delicate skin._

“I’m gonna go start the coffee.” You smile at him, pressing one last kiss to his ear. Clyde hums, he likes the sound of that.

//

The day passes by slowly due to the blistering heat of West Virginian summers. The sun holds high in the sky, beating down on every living being that it touches.

The soft mundaneness of your typical Sunday has swept both you and Clyde into your own little routines. Both of you working in and around the house, never too close but never too far apart from each other. You work on stocking the food, checking to see whether you have to go to the grocery store or not. Clyde works outside, fixing up his favourite blue car and cleaning the garden.

When the sun’s reached its highest point in the sky, you join Clyde outside, bringing him a glass of lemonade so you can both relax for a moment and enjoy each other’s company before you both return to your respective tasks. You sit on the back porch, overlooking your small but modest garden that you two have been working on since the spring. You hand him his glass after he’s pulled off his shirt to wipe away the sweat that drips down his face, leaving his glistening tanned torso bare to you.

“Thank ya, darlin’.” He says sweetly after having taken the glass from you, his large fingers grazing yours. Clyde leans in and presses a wet kiss to your lips, sitting himself down next to you and sighing loudly before taking a big swig of lemonade from his glass.

You stare in awe at him, the way his neck bobs as the cold liquid travels down his throat, satiating him. The way his chest heaves with every gulp, his skin straining against his taut muscles, his beautiful fucking pecs that you’re obsessed with. The sun seems to beat down harder onto you.

You notice beads of sweat, as well as condensation from the cold glass, dripping down his body, twirling down his large forearms in rivulets, dripping onto his exposed thighs. Some roll down his chest too, you have to look away before you just lean in and lick them all up.

It’s too hot for this, you feel near delirious. _Maybe you were getting heat stroke?_

Cicadas chirp in the tall trees, a sign of the heat. You rest your head on Clyde’s shoulder, as much physical contact as either of you could stand at this point. Your sweaty cheek sticks to his damp shoulder, you kiss his bronzed skin, relishing in whatever closeness you two can afford, the heat preventing either of you from talking too much. You’re conserving your energy for whatever tasks remain.

You and Clyde sit in whatever shade is afforded to you on the steps of his trailer, for as long as possible until one of you decides to go back to work. Your white tank top sticks to your chest, stomach and back, your denim shorts probably not the best fashion decision for this weather either but you can’t be bothered to step back inside and change at this point. It was somehow hotter in the trailer than it was outside. At least you were sometimes granted with a slight breeze every now and then. You both nearly moaned every time one drafted through the hills and onto your little patch of land.

“Alright, gimme a kiss darlin’, I need to get back to fixin’ the car.” Clyde huffs, turning to kiss the top of your head before standing up from the stairs. You pout and hoist yourself up, letting your hands wander around the skin of his arms, feeling his muscles underneath his hot skin.

He flexes his muscles for you, making you giggle. Clyde thinks the sound is sweeter than the cicadas, sweeter than your homemade lemonade. You lean and kiss his bicep, nibbling gently on the skin as well, for as long as he’ll let you.

“ _Sugar_ , I said gimme a kiss.” Clyde grumbles, his hand finding its way to the back of your neck, fingers twisting in the damp hair to tilt your head up to look at him properly. You whine but you love it, love it when he does that, using his force on you.

“Not my fault you’re just so _big and strong_.” You tease, biting your bottom lip and digging your nails into his biceps, leaving the slightest indent. Clyde growls, leaning down and capturing your lips in a hot kiss. His mouth, so warm and soft, you can’t help but moan into it, letting him swallow up your please, saving them for later. He pulls away too quickly, but you understand.

_The heat._

//

The day continues to drag on, slow and heavy like molasses.

The sun eventually begins to drop, casting the distant mountains in their perfect, honey glow. The trailer fills with a different kind of light; soft and mellow. The temperature drops to both you and Clyde’s delight, finally granted some permanent relief from the blistering temperatures that you had suffered through all day. You manage now to change into something a little more comfortable, your best white linen dress.

Before you both head inside to begin preparing dinner together, you head to your garden to pick the biggest, juiciest strawberries to make your weekly strawberry jam. Clyde’s favourite.

_Well, besides his Mama’s of course._

Tediously picking through the lush bushes, your fingers sticky and coated a deep red, you drop the best strawberries into your woven basket, only leaving behind the berries that haven’t fully ripened yet. You’ll come back for them next Sunday.

The juices of the plumpest berries drip down your arm, tainting your skin. When you’re fast enough, you manage to lick it up before it stains your white dress, but you can’t help the few splatters and drops that manage to make it onto the fabric. You sort of like the way it looks, you don’t mind getting dirty if it means you’ve harvested the best berries for Clyde.

He watches you for a few moments, having finished his work on the car, he thought he’d look for you where you always were at this hour, picking berries for him. Clyde smiles sweetly as he watches you lick your own skin, humming to yourself as the sweet juices land on your tongue, and then humming to some made up tune, just from feeling so content.

He thinks about the sweet jam you’ll make, about the sweeter tart, crumble or pie you’ll make with the leftover berries. How you’ll labour over it for him, make it perfect for him. _You’re perfect for him._

A warm hand envelopes itself around your waist, startling you slightly. You nearly drop your basket.

“Jus’ me, Sugar.” Clyde chuckles darkly, amused. You sigh, leaning back into his strong chest. You notice he’s taken his prosthetic arm off for the night, probably having had enough of it after wearing it all day in the heat while he was fixing the car.

You hum as you rest against him, relishing in the fact that you can finally be so close to him now that the sun has started its descent from the sky. You both look out into the garden, admiring your labour of love, how hard you both worked to keep it flourishing throughout the length of the summer.

Clyde takes your hand into his, twisting your palm around, admiring how your fingers are stained red from your hard work. He brings them up to his nose, he can still smell the strawberries. He gently brings your fingers to his lips before opening up and wrapping his tongue around your digits, tasting whatever juices have all but dried up on your salty skin, sucking them. He hums in delight. You just stare at him in wonder.

“Was thinkin’ that you and I could go take a walk before we head on in t’make dinner?” He lets your hand go, bringing his down to pinch the skin of your waist. He somehow pulls you closer.

“I’d like that, Clyde.” You sound winded.

The next fifteen minutes were spent retelling each other about your day, your tasks, your thoughts, anything really, anything either of you could think of. It was always easy like that, easy with Clyde. Neither of you have a destination in mind, just walking until you decide to turn back to the trailer for dinner.

You do, however, stop when you come to an opening in the trees. They part, opening up to a wide field with rolling hills in the distance, all bathed in that warm yellow hue from the ever setting sun. The air is filled with dancing particles, reminding you of your moments with Clyde from this morning. The grass is taller out here, untouched, brushing against your knees, tickling you both. You inhale sharply, the air somehow crisper, soothing almost.

You had never seen this before, had never ventured this far out behind Clyde’s trailer to know this existed. You didn’t know you could get such a view from such a random, disregarded patch of land out in the middle of nowhere, lost amongst the West Virginian mountains.

You look to Clyde in shock only to find he doesn’t hold your same expression. He smiles down at you, that knowing smile, that warm, earth shattering smile that melts your insides. You’ve seen Clyde smile hundreds of times, maybe thousands by now. It was something you cherished, seeing as he didn’t do it very often, or around most people. But you easily made him smile more than anything, more than his blue car, more than Sadie, more than Jimmy and maybe even more than Mellie. You made him smile so much. You made him smile all the damn time. You made his teeth ache, you were so sweet. 

Wordlessly, Clyde leans down and captures your lips in his, letting his tongue sweep into your mouth with nothing more than a low growl. You were always so easy for him, he thought. So willing, so open, so fucking soft. His hand and forearm come to wrap as best as they can around your waist, pulling you into him so forcefully that you both take several steps back until you both fall into the tall grass, landing with a slight thud. Clyde breaks your fall underneath you.

“M’sorry, darlin’... got lost in that pretty little mouth of yers.” He chuckles still holding you so tightly. You brush his hair out of his face, tucking it behind his big ears. You ask him if he’s okay, he nods his head with a soft ‘ _yeah, m’fine_.’

“Why… why have you never shown me this before?” You’re in disbelief. Clyde shrugs, holding your waist securely as he sits himself up in the grass, letting you sit in his lap.

“Dunno. Don’t come out here much myself, I kinda forgot about it til this afternoon.”

You tell him how beautiful the field is, how perfect the view is, how you wish you could see it from the trailer. Clyde watches you while you talk, how your smile stays put through the words you form, how your lips curl around the syllables. How your eyes light up, and dart around from tree to tree, from the grass patches to the weeds, to the hills in the distance, how they squint when you look too much in the direction of the setting sun. He thinks about how you look like a literal angel in this lighting, sitting right there in his lap in that perfect little dress of yours.

Clyde lets his hand wander up your dress, resting it innocently on your thigh, touching the soft skin as you continue to talk. He hums and nods every now and then, to let you know he’s listening. He really is. It’s not your fault, _you’re just so distracting._

He lets his hand glide along your skin, his fingers trailing higher and higher until they brush along the cotton fabric of your underwear. Only then do you stop talking, inhaling sharply at the sudden touch.

“Clyde…”

“What is it, darlin’? What d’ya need from me?” You keen at his words, letting your hips rock into his hand. He moves it entirely, letting it come to grab your waist and positioning you over his hardening cock. You gasp as you feel him through his denim shorts.

“Hmm?” He presses, urging you to speak.

“H-here?”

“Sugar, there ain’t no one ‘round here, not for miles.” He’s still holding your waist, grinding you down on his cock, dragging you over its length. You nod your head, not sure you trust your voice. You move in time with his movements, making your hips rut faster along his length but he stops you, bruising your waist as you try to keep going but he holds you down so tightly.

“As much as I want you t’keep goin’ darlin’, I need to taste ya.” Clyde climbs over you, bringing his hand to hold you at the small of your back, leaning you down, down, down till your back hits the warm earth beneath you. He cradles you, hesitant to let go as if you were something fragile, as if he would break you. 

He could, and you would let him.

He does finally let go, letting his body travel between your warm thighs, bringing your knees to rest on top of his shoulders. He nuzzles his face into the soft flesh of your thighs, kissing, biting the skin. Leaving his mark. He runs his nose along the length of your sex, applying slightly more pressure on your clit. You gasp, arching your hips into him but he holds you down, making you whine.

“Smell so good, how d’you do that? How’d ya get to smell so sweet? Like a fuckin’ berry, and all fer me…” He was rambling already, his twang getting deeper and you moaned at his voice alone, that deep, syrupy voice. Desperate for his touch, his hand, his mouth. Anything.

“I- I don’t know… I, _fuck_ \- Clyde!” You don’t know why you even tried answering him, he wasn’t expecting an answer, you knew he wouldn’t wait to hear it, he knew he was already making you dumb, lost in his touch. He had cut off your pathetic excuse for a thought with his hot mouth and tongue running up the entire length of you.

Your hands immediately shot out to the blades of grass above your head, fisting them, ripping them out from the soil they grew in.

Clyde had just pushed your panties to the side, letting your juices and his tongue wetten them, he didn’t care, and neither did you. He hummed against your pussy, delighted with how you taste, nose nudging your clit and you bucked your hips again, desperate for more, more, more.

“Clyde-” You keened but he shushed, gripping tighter at your waist where his hand held you down, his forearm constricting around you as well, like a snake smothering its prey, so slowly, so patiently. He knew he would have you. He knew you were his to play with.

“Shhh, s’alright darlin’, Clyde’s got ya. Lemme hear that sweet honey voice of yers.” He nudged you open with his nose, plunging his tongue deeper into you, running it up and down, leaving hot, wet, sloppy kisses all over your opening, all the while his nose nudging at your clit. You moaned, nearly yelled at the sensation. Clyde was too fucking good at this, too good for his own good. You couldn’t think straight, none of your thoughts made sense just:

“ _Clydeclydeclydeclydeclyde_!” Your back arched off the soil, your dress no doubt being rubbed raw into the grass, leaving behind stains but you don’t think you could have cared less. Not with Clyde’s hot mouth and tongue devouring you like you were one of your own sweet berry pies, devouring you like he was starving and you were the only thing around for miles.

In fact, _you were._

Clyde coaxed you closer to your impending orgasm, cooing at you, telling you how beautiful you looked, how perfect you are, how you’re such a good girl for him, such a good girl _to_ him, how he didn’t deserve you, how-

“Gonna fucking- _Clyde_ , I’m so close-” You helpless ground your pussy into his face, riding your high closer and closer to its edge, desperate for release, desperate for him to give it to you, let you have it.

You felt as though you had nearly ripped out every blade of grass that was close to your head by now, your hands now reaching down to tangle themselves in Clyde’s hair, pulling, pushing him further into you, your back arched so high you felt like you would float away if his hand wasn’t gripping your waist, your tummy with such a bruising grip.

“I know, Sugar, I know. Feels good, doesn’it?” He pulls away slightly but you just push his face back into your pussy. You think you feel him chuckle into you but the vibrations just make you see stars and moan louder.

“Uh-huh.” You whined, hips never ceasing their movements against his face. You were so close, so fucking close-

“Can feel ya tightening up this sweet pussy. You wanna cum?”

“Yeah, Clyde, I want it.”

He pulls away so fast, so fast it gives you whiplash and you let out such an inhuman noise at your denied orgasm.

Clyde grips you, sitting up and bringing you back into his lap. You had been so out of it, so close to your release that you hadn’t realized he had managed to pull his cock out from his shorts. 

Panties still pushed to the side, he shoves his fat cock into the deepest parts of your pussy, knocking against your cervix in one strong thrust. Your cunt squelches for him, spreading, _stretching_ itself open to accommodate to his enormous size. 

You look so deep into each other's eyes, yours threatening to roll back into your head but you keep them on him. He looked so perfect; mouth agape, slick with your arousal, lips plump and red, cheeks flushed, eyes glazed over with want, with need. So fucking pretty like this, you thought.

The moan Clyde lets out is your favourite. It’s the one reserved for the first moment he enters you. It’s deep, beyond guttural, it comes from the deepest part of him, it’s nearly a growl, a plea, a cry for mercy, for salvation in your sweet, sweet pussy. Nothing feels like you, nothing feels like being stuffed so deeply inside you. You’ve ruined everyone else for him. Everything feels dull in comparison to you.

_Juicier then a fuckin peach_ , Clyde thinks to himself, his brain muddled from your sweet grip on him.

“ _Fhuuck_ , this fuckin’ pussy, s-so fuckin’ tight.” He grumbles, letting his forehead knock against yours, your noses bumping too.

“Oh my god, please move-”

“No… no I want ya to stay still. Keep me warm for a bit.”

Your mouth stays open in disbelief.

You… you had never done this before. Never… kept him warm.

But that look he had in his eyes; absolute want, absolute fucking desire. You couldn’t say no to that. So you just nod your head, keeping it close to his, your lips brushing as his cock pulses inside you, twitching. Your walls fluttering around his girth, his thick length.

You kept him in, trying your hardest to not rock your hips into his, you did a few times but his hand nearly broke your hip from how tightly he was gripping it. The sounds of the birds, the bugs, the light, the heat from the sun gone to you except the feeling of his cock nestled into you so deeply you swore you could feel him in your stomach. Stretching you so good you were sweating all over again, skin glistening in the setting sunlight.

Clyde licks at your neck, tasting your salty skin and humming against the expanse of your neck. Bitting, kissing, sucking, marking you all over.

“You like it here, don’t ya?” Clyde asks suddenly. He sounds out of breath from holding his cock inside you, willing himself to not just pound up into you and give you both what you so desperately need. 

You nod your head without hesitation, even though you’re unsure if he’s asking you if you like here as in sitting on his cock or here as in this field.

“I do, Clyde. I do.” You sound winded too. Testing the waters, you move your hips against his, trying to make it seem like an accident, like you didn’t do it on purpose but you let out a low whine which Clyde catches, he chuckles lowly, deciding to ignore your undulating hips, letting your needy cunt take what it wants.

“Would ya wanna live here?” So... he's talking about the field then?

His hand travels, exploring your skin underneath your thin dress that’s stained with strawberry juice. It makes Clyde feel feral, out of control. He wants to fucking ravage you, make even more of a mess of you than you’ve already done yourself with those goddamn strawberries. He’s holding so much back. 

He lets himself get lost in your softness, feeling your gentle flesh glide against the skin of his hand as you begin to truly bounce on his cock, crying out for him.

“Wha- like… like move in with you?” You’re rocking faster now, taking what you need from him. His hand feels so warm on your skin, gripping you tightly, helping you move up and down, up and down on his thick cock.

“N-no… I wanna build ya a house. I wanna build u-us a house. Give us a home.”

“Clyde-”

“Right fuckin’ here- right here.” He pulls your hips down on his cock harder as if for emphasis, punctuation his words with his cock. You moan into the golden air, clutching his shoulders too tight, holding his body so close. You couldn’t get close enough.

“Would you let me do that, darlin’? Would ya let me build you a f-fuckin’ house? Huh? Give ya everythin’?” Expertly with those bulging muscles of his, Clyde holds your lower back again, laying you down on the soil and letting his entire weight rest on your lower half, his hips quick to pick up their pace again, quick to start truly pounding into you like he’s been waiting to do. 

He fucks you into the earth, laying the foundation for your new home, your new life. Not caring about the grass, the dirt staining either of you.

“Clyde- _oh my god_ , yes!”

“Would ya do somethin’… g-give me somethin’ in return?”

“A-anything.”

“Would ya give me a family?” His hips stutter. Your eyes widen. His cock twitches. You both moan embarrassingly loudly.

“F-family?”

“Yeah darlin’, would ya let me f-fuck a baby into you, give- give us a family?” His hips are unrelenting, his cock impossible harder at his own thoughts which hold a mirage, a vision of you, round with his child. He was so turned on by this. You kind of were too. You can’t even answer him his hips were moving too fast, too hard, too deep.

Having kids, _starting a family_ was not something you or Clyde had ever mentioned or ever brought up. You both loved kids, that was without question. You both loved Sadie, loved when you got a chance to babysit her. You couldn’t deny the way your heart swelled, the way it would beat faster whenever Clyde was around children, the way they loved him, the way they were always enamoured with him. Asking if he was a superhero because of his prosthetic arm, the way that would make him tear up. How soft and gentle he was. _Fuck_.

You knew he would be such a great father, in every way. You didn’t have to think twice, didn’t have to question it. You didn’t even know if he was being serious or if this was just him rambling, lost in the tight, snug fit of your cunt.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head, tears spilling. Your back arches into his strong chest. His hand lets go of your hip and finds your throat, wrapping around your delicate skin and bringing you back to this Earth, making you look at him, look in those eyes. _Those sweet, caramel cinnamon eyes._

_You want to give a child those eyes._

“I can feel you- clenchin ‘round me Sugar. Ya like that? You want me to make you swollen with my seed, pregnant with my child?”

“Yes Clyde, oh my _FUHckinnng_ god, _yes_!” His cock was pistoning into you so fucking deep, over and over again, splitting you open for him like a flowering fruit.

“Yeah? Want me to fill ya up? Stuff you full of my f-fuckin cum till this pretty lil’ pussy can’t take no more?”

You can’t even answer, you just pathetically nod your head before your orgasm overrides any other function in your mind, body and soul. You cum, you cum so fucking hard. Crying on his cock, crying his name, begging for his release to fill you, screaming ‘I love you.’

“ _Ohh_ \- I love ya too, my swee- sweet fuckin’ girl, so sweet fer me.” His hips punch the air out of you. You can’ breathe, you just take what he gives you, over and over again until Clyde inhales sharply. His hips move faster, with more purpose then he’s cuming, cuming, cuming so deep inside you, you can feel it sticking, coating your walls with untold promises.

Clyde continues to let his hips rock into yours, pushing, stuffing his cum back into your cunt like he had promised. He pushed and pushed until it leaked back out onto him, onto both of your thighs, and onto the grass below you. He pulled his cock out suddenly, lifting your hips up slightly, taking two of his thick fingers and scooping up what had gushed down your thighs, bringing it back to your pussy and pumping it back into you. You gasped, your hips wanting to pull away due to sensitivity but you kept still for him.

“My sweet girl.” He cooed as he watched you suck his fingers back into your abused hole, making an absolute mess of you. You sighed happily, trying your hardest to regain your breath. Clyde eventually let his fingers leave you, letting his body fall down onto the earth next to yours. You snuggle up next to him, letting your head rest on his chest, throwing a leg over his body as well, keeping you close.

The sun has set behind the mountains, that golden hue not having left yet but it was quickly dissipating. You would have to head back soon, before it got too dark.

“Did you mean it?” You ask, your voice much quieter than you were expecting it to come out. You look up at him from your place on his chest, your fingers trailing around in the little patch of hair between his pecs.

“I did, darlin’, I did. But it’s… it’s nothin’ we gotta think about right now, I didn’t mean I want a baby right this moment, I-”

“I understand, Clyde.” You chuckle, pressing tender kisses to his skin. You let your fingers dance along his skin, aimlessly or following the random patterns of his freckles and moles. Your eyelids feel heavy, your dress was sticking to your sweat covered body, your panties stuck to your sex, wet and dripping from your cum mixing with Clyde’s. You both lay there, a few more moments to catch your breath.

“One day... I would like to have children with ya,” Clyde says, confidence lacing his voice. 

_Children_ , more than one. You can’t help the way your heart skips at the thought.

“And I was serious about buildin’ us that house. M’sick and tired of that damn trailer, you deserve better...” He trails off at the end of that sentence, his voice becoming a low rumble that reverberates through his chest and into yours.

You shift slightly, resting your forearms on his chest, scooting up a bit so that your noses brush up against one anothers. You let your lips brush against his, your tongue poking out slightly, just enough to tease him.

“We’ll build it together.” You smile against his mouth, voice so hush and gentle. You let him kiss you deeper. You let him shove his tongue down your throat, sighing into each other’s mouths, saying a million ‘ _I love you’s_ ’.

When you eventually break away, you look up from where you lay in the tall grass to find a single purple flower blooming from a random patch, you watch it sway in the gentle breeze, the humid air making its petals bounce and pollen fall like pixie dust.

You decide to pluck it and bring it home. 


End file.
